The Girls from See Saw Lane (15 page)

Chapter Twenty

I
t seemed like forever
, but it was actually only three days before Mary came round to see me. I was out of bed by then but the cold had really knocked me for six and I felt as weak as a baby. I was still off work.

I was helping Mum with the dinner when Mary knocked on the back door.

‘At last,' I said, opening the door and hugging her.

‘Off you go,' said Mum, ‘I can manage here.'

Mary and I went upstairs to my room. I took hold of her hands and pulled her on to the bed. ‘Tell me everything about the party,' I said, ‘don't leave anything out.' Mary just stared at me, then she put her head in her hands and started crying. I immediately put my arms around her. ‘What's wrong?'

‘It was awful,' she sobbed.

‘Oh Mary, why?'

‘That girl was there, you know the one he walked into the cafe with. Elton was all over her all evening. He barely noticed I was there. How could he do that? How could he just ignore me? He just ignored me, Dottie.'

‘Ralph said…'

‘Ralph said what?' she snapped.

‘That you didn't have a great time,' I said gently.

‘He was right, I didn't.'

‘I'm really sorry.'

‘I hate him.'

‘Do you?'

‘I
want
to; it would be easier if I did.'

‘I wish I'd been there.'

‘
I
wish you'd been there. I wouldn't have felt so stupid. I felt like a bloody groupie. The daft thing is, I expect we'll be back together in a few days and what's even dafter is the fact that I'll be stupid enough to
take
him back.'

There was so much I wanted to say. I was so mad at Elton but I knew this wasn't the time, and anyway, I would only be telling Mary what she already knew. I didn't mention the getting drunk bit. She hadn't told me, so I guess she didn't want me to know.

‘Did he like the pendant?' I asked.

‘I haven't got a clue. I'm not even sure he opened it. I left it on a table.'

‘I'm really sorry, Mary.'

‘You and me both,' she said sadly.

A
pril was beautiful
, with warm sunny days and long balmy evenings. Since deciding to get less involved in what Mary and Elton were doing, Ralph and I had time to just enjoy being together.

It was a perfect spring. A time of growing up and being in love.

One gloriously sunny day we took a picnic up onto the Downs. I just loved it there. It was so different from the narrow streets on the estate, there was room to breathe and dream and, well, just be. I liked the feeling of the breeze blowing through my hair. I liked seeing the butterflies dancing above the wild flowers and the birds wheeling in the sky. I loved watching the light on the sea in the distance, seeing Brighton all spread out below like a toytown; like somewhere a million miles away.

Spring had been unusually warm that year and the rolling fields were covered in daisies. We spread a blanket on the exact same spot where we had had our first date. We lay side by side looking up at the clouds scudding across the blue sky. I closed my eyes and thought about how happy I was.

‘Do you know how happy I am?' I said.

‘Let me guess,' said Ralph, spreading his arms out wide. ‘This much?' he said.

I squinted my eyes up against the sun. ‘More,' I said.

‘How much more?' said Ralph, laughing.

‘A million times more,' I said, kneeling up and staring down into his face.

‘Is that all?'

‘A billion times more. A trillion times more!' I shouted.

‘Enough to stay with me forever?'

‘And beyond,' I said, brushing the hair away from his eyes.

I had been making a daisy chain, pressing my nail into the tiny stem and threading the little white flowers through, one by one.

Ralph took the daisy chain from me and started winding it round my finger. He stared at me in a very intense sort of way.

‘What?' I said, smiling at him.

‘I'm thinking.'

‘About what?'

I had never seen Ralph look so serious. He stood up and walked a few feet away. I got up and followed him.

The view from the top of the dyke was beautiful. The rolling hills of the South Downs, the Weald and, in the distance, the shimmering waters of the English Channel.

‘There's something on your mind, Mr Bennett,' I said, slipping my arm through his. ‘And I demand to know what it is.' I was joking with him, but when he turned to look at me he was still looking deadly serious.

‘Will you marry me, Dottie?' he said.

The question seemed to come out of the blue, like he hadn't planned to say it.

‘I haven't got a ring yet,' he went on, ‘but I will, and then we can make it official.'

‘I don't mind about the ring,' I said and I didn't, but something was bothering me and I couldn't put my finger on it.

He swallowed, and took a deep breath. ‘I love you, Dottie,' he said. ‘I always have. I always will. I will always, always do my best to make you happy. I will try never to hurt you. I can't promise that we will ever be rich, but I will take care of you and I will never let you down.'

His words came out quickly, almost pleadingly.

‘I may have done this the wrong way round,' he continued, ‘not getting the ring first, but I don't want to lose you.'

I reached my hand up to his face, put my palm against his cheek. He was frowning. If it hadn't been the happiest moment of my life, I'd have almost thought he was close to tears.

‘You won‘t lose me,' I said very gently. ‘Why would you say that? Why would you even think that?'

Ralph shrugged his shoulders. Then he put his arm around me and held me tight almost too tight.

‘Dottie...? What are you thinking?'

I smiled. ‘I'm thinking about what you just said.'

‘And?'

‘Don't rush me,' I said, teasing him.

He smiled then. The clouds blew away from the sun and the world lit itself up.

Then he started to tickle me. ‘Say yes, or it will be death by tickling.'

‘Okay,' I shouted between giggles. ‘Yes, yes.' Then I looked into his eyes and very gently said, ‘Yes, of course I'll marry you.'

I could see the tension leave his face. We lay side by side on the blanket, our fingers entwined. I had never felt so happy. ‘I want to go home,' I said.

‘But we haven't had our picnic yet.'

‘I want to tell someone.'

‘Tell the sheep,' said Ralph, laughing.

‘I'm going to be married,' I shouted across the hillside. A few raggedy sheep looked at me and carried on snuffling away at the grass.

‘I need to tell Mum and Dad.'

‘Let's wait till I get the ring.'

‘Okay,' I said. ‘If that's what you want, but I'll have to tell Mary.'

‘Why?'

‘Because I won't be able to keep it from her. She'll know. We can read each other like a book.'

Ralph stared down at the ground.

‘I won't tell anyone else,' I said. ‘Just Mary.'

‘Of course,' he said eventually. ‘Of course you must tell Mary.'

T
he next day
was Sunday and I couldn't wait to get round to Mary's and tell her my news.

I knocked on the back door and went into the little kitchen. I could hardly believe what I saw. Mary was standing beside her mum, up to her elbows in cake mix.

‘Can you believe this?' said Mary's mum.

‘Not really,' I said, grinning.

‘Mum said the way to a man's stomach is through his heart,' said Mary.

‘Sounds painful,' I said, laughing.

‘The other way round,' said Mary, giggling.

‘Well, that's a relief,' I said.

‘You look happy,' said Mary's mum.

‘I am,' I said.

‘I can finish this off,' she said to Mary.

‘Fancy going for a walk?' I said.

Mary washed her hands, took her coat down from a hook behind the door and we headed for the seafront. Most of the shops in West Street were closed but we gazed into the windows at all the new fashions. Mary had her eye on a red checked miniskirt and black roll-neck jumper that was on one of the models in Hannington's window.

We walked down to the pier. There were loads of people around, even though it was a bit of a dull day that was threatening rain. We made our way onto the beach and sat on the pebbles with our backs leaning against the old stone wall. The sun was beginning to filter through the clouds. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth of it on my face.

I was bursting to tell Mary my news, but I suddenly felt uneasy about it.

‘Well, spit it out then,' she said.

‘Spit what out?' I said. I picked up some pebbles and let them fall through my hand.

‘Whatever it is you want to tell me,' she said.

‘How do you know I want to tell you anything?' I asked, playing for time.

‘Because I can read your mind, Dottie Perks, now spill.'

‘Ralph has asked me to marry him,' I said.

‘Oh!' Mary looked at me. I couldn't read her expression but it certainly wasn't delight on her face. ‘Oh,' she said again. Then she pushed herself up and stalked off down the beach. I ran after her. I caught up with her beside the groyne.

‘Mary,' I pleaded, ‘don't be like that.'

Her face was red and cross-looking.

‘Like what?'

I stared at her. ‘Like this.' I felt desperate and disappointed and… angry. ‘I had a feeling you'd be like this,' I shouted.

‘Why bother telling me then?' she shouted back.

‘Because you're my best friend, that's why. Because I want to share it with you. Because I want us to look through wedding magazines together. Because I want you to be my bridesmaid. That's why.'

I left Mary leaning against the groyne and walked down to the water's edge.

There were two little girls running into the cold sea, shrieking and giggling.

Suddenly Mary was beside me.

‘They remind me of us,' she said.

I smiled and linked my arm through hers.

‘It seems like yesterday,' I said.

‘Sometimes I wish it was.'

‘Really?'

‘Sometimes.'

We stood arm in arm watching the children playing, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

Mary nodded towards the little girls. ‘They think it's going to be like that forever, don't they? Playing on the beach all day, then going home for their tea. No worries, no regrets.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Oh, I don't know. Life was simpler then, wasn't it?'

‘You're not going to lose me, you know. If that's what this is all about? Because if it is, you couldn't be more wrong. Marrying Ralph doesn't mean the end of our friendship.'

‘You say that now.'

‘I'll say that forever, because however much I love Ralph, I wouldn't be me without you.'

‘Really?'

‘Absolutely, always, forever, infinitely.'

‘I'm a cow aren't I?'

‘Yes, but you're my cow, Mary Pickles.'

Mary's Diary

Dear Diary,

Ralph asked Dottie to marry him and instead of being happy for her I was angry, like really angry. She forgave me, she always does. Dottie is a better person that I am. I don't like myself at the moment.

Mary Pickles (bad, bad, friend)

Aged eighteen.

Chapter Twenty-One

J
une was glorious
. The days were long and warm. Ralph and I spent a lot of time down on the beach. We'd spread a blanket over the pebbles and just sit quietly watching the tide chasing pebbles and seaweed backwards and forwards over the stones. I used to lay back with my arms behind my head and close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of the sun on my face and Ralph beside me.

We started to talk about our future.

‘We'll have to rent somewhere to start with,' said Ralph.

‘That's okay.'

‘But it won't be forever. Once I'm a qualified plumber I reckon we can think about buying somewhere.'

‘It all sounds very grown-up and serious,' I said, smiling.

‘I want you to be happy.'

‘I'll be happy wherever we live.'

‘So will I, but it's good to have something to work towards and I want the roof over our head to belong to us.'

‘Do you enjoy plumbing?'

‘I worked for the railways when I left school but there were too many chiefs and not enough Indians. That's when I decided that I would be happier working for myself. Plumbing seemed like the obvious choice. I've always liked fixing things and I actually love it.'

‘More than you love me?' I said, teasing him.

‘I'd choose you over a leaky tap any day of the week,' he said, grinning.

Ralph was saving up for a ring. We spent some happy times gazing in jewellers' windows. Once, we went into a shop, the girl came out onto the pavement with us so that we could point to the rings we liked. Back inside, she got a little key from under the counter and opened the back of the window. She took out two black velvet cushions with a selection of rings on them and even though we told her we were only looking at the moment, she made me feel special and let me try on a selection of them.

The only thing that was spoiling these dreams was Mary. She wasn't herself at all. She was moody and sullen, which was odd, because her and Elton were getting on okay. She had seemed to accept my marrying Ralph. I could tell she wasn't completely happy about it but she seemed to be resigned to it. It didn't help matters when I told her I wouldn't be going to Paris with her on the work trip. We were in her bedroom playing records when I broke the news.

‘What do you mean, you can't go?' she screamed.

‘I would if I could,' I said, wanting desperately for her to understand, ‘but we're saving up for a wedding. I can't expect Mum and Dad to pay for it all.'

‘I knew this would happen,' she said, glaring at me, ‘I knew that everything would change.'

I didn't know what to say. I hated arguing with Mary.

‘This has been our dream, since we were children, you and me travelling the world, getting out of the estate, having a better life. It's been our dream!' Mary cried.

‘Your
dream, Mary,' I said as gently as I could. ‘It's
never
been mine.'

‘So you're happy to settle for married life, a load of kids and a council house?'

‘I love Ralph, I want to marry him, it doesn't feel like I'm settling for anything. It's what I want.'

Mary stood up and stared out of the window, not speaking.

I stood beside her and leaned on the window ledge. ‘You'll have a great time,' I said. ‘You can tell me all about it when you come back, it will almost be as good as going myself.'

‘Bloody Ralph Bennett,' she muttered.

‘I want you to be happy for me, Mary,' I said, linking my arm through hers.

‘Well, I'm not feeling happy for you right now.'

‘I know, but you will, won't you?'

‘I haven't got much choice, have I?'

A
s June gave
way to July things got worse. Mary was pulling away from me. She stopped coming over to my counter for a chat. She found excuses not to see me. I couldn't remember the last time we'd gone to the record shop together, or sat in her bedroom doing our hair and trying out new make-up. She hadn't said anything about being ill but she was taking odd days off work. I didn't know what to think. We had always shared everything. I had always known just how to help Mary and how, if she was in a sulk, to win her round, but for the first time ever, I didn't have a clue.

‘You go round and see her,' said Mum.

‘But I don't think she wants to see me,' I said sadly.

‘When has Mary Pickles not wanted to see you?'

‘I don't understand what's going on.'

‘That's why you have to talk about it,' said Mum. ‘You're not going to solve anything sitting here worrying about it, now get yourself round there and sort it out.'When I got to Mary's house that evening, her third brother, Wesley, and her fourth brother, Wayne, were in the front garden messing about with the motorbike. There was nothing unusual in that; what was unusual was that they hardly looked up from what they were doing when I arrived. Normally they would joke with me; that day they pretty much ignored me. In fact, I got the impression they were pretending they hadn't seen me. 

I stood for a moment and still the boys said nothing. The awful feeling in my stomach got worse.

‘Is everything all right?' I asked.

Wesley grunted.

‘Is Mary all right?' 

‘I think she's in her room,' mumbled Wayne.

I knocked quietly on the door and Mrs Pickles answered it. She looked even more anxious and worried than usual. I stepped into the house. Mr Pickles was sitting at the kitchen table, but he didn't look up either.

By now I had a feeling of absolute dread in my stomach. 

‘Is Mary all right?' I asked again. And with that, Mr Pickles banged his fist on the table and walked out. I just stood there not knowing what to do.

‘Mary's in her room, Dottie,' said Mrs Pickles, picking up the chair that her husband had knocked over. ‘You can go up if you like.' I looked closely at Mary's mum and I could see that her eyes were all red and her face was blotchy as if she'd been crying.

‘Is she in bed?' I said.

‘No Dottie, she's not in bed,' said Mrs Pickles quietly. She picked up a dishcloth and turned her back on me and began to dry the dishes that were draining on the sink.

I walked up the stairs and tapped on Mary's door. There was no answer. I put my ear against the door but I couldn't hear anything; she wasn't playing her records.

‘Mary it's me, Dottie,' I said. ‘Can I come in?' 

There was still no answer so I pushed down the handle and opened the door. Mary was sitting on her bed. She was very pale and she was crying, quietly. It broke my heart to see her looking so sad. I sat down next to her and put my arm around her. She didn't snuggle into me like she normally did, but sat stiff and rigid, holding a hanky to her nose.

‘Has someone died?' I asked, because that was the only thing I could think of that made any sense.

‘No,' she said, but she said it so softly I could barely hear her.

‘Please tell me what's wrong, Mary.' I wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of my finger as gently as I could. 

She shook her head and swallowed.

‘I can't, Dottie.'

‘Have I done something?'

‘Of course not.'

It was then that I noticed the picture of Montmartre. It was screwed up on the floor. I picked it up. ‘Why have you done that?' I asked, trying to smooth it out.

‘Because I'm not going to need it any more,' she said.

‘But why?'

‘Because I won't be going there,' she shouted, ‘Ever.'

‘I don't understand.'

Mary sniffed and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. She took a deep breath.

‘I'm going to have a baby,' she said and she burst into tears again.

I couldn't take in what she was saying.

‘Are you sure?' I said.

‘Of course I'm sure. Do you think I'd make it up?'

‘I didn't mean that,' I said, ‘it's just that…'

‘It's just that what?' said Mary, standing up and walking across to the window.

‘Have you told Elton?' I said.

Mary shook her head.

‘He'll have to marry you. He'll have to do the right thing,' I said.

‘That's what Mum and Dad keep saying.' 

‘Of course they do,' I said. Mary walked back to the bed and sat down. ‘Have you told them whose it is?'

‘No,' she said miserably. 

‘They don't know about Elton?'

‘No.'

I put my arm around her shoulder. 

‘How can I tell them, Dottie? My brothers would kill him if they knew and…'

‘And what?'

‘It wasn't really his fault.'

‘Well, he certainly had
something
to do with it.'

Mary put her head in her hands.

‘You'll have to tell them eventually,' I said. 

‘I know,' she said, and then she turned away from me and sobbed into her pillow as if her heart was breaking.

I sat there for a while rubbing her shoulder.

‘It's not the end of the world,' I said gently. ‘I know it's going to be difficult, and I know it will be a bit of a shock for Elton, but once he gets used to the idea it won't be so bad and you'll get to marry him and…'

Mary pushed my hand from her shoulder.

‘It's what you always wanted,' I said. ‘Elton and…'

‘Don't!' said Mary. ‘Don't say anything else.'

‘All right but…'

She sat up and wrapped her arms around herself.

‘Go away,' she said. ‘Please go away. I want to be on my own.' When I didn't move, she said, ‘
Please,
Dottie!' Her voice was desperate. I kissed the back of her head, and left her and went back downstairs.

Mrs Pickles was sitting at the kitchen table with her hands around a cup of tea.

‘Goodbye, Mrs Pickles,' I said. I wondered if I ought to say I was sorry or something.

She looked up at me. ‘Did she tell you what's happened?' 

I nodded. ‘Yes.' 

‘I suppose it's that boy she's been seeing.'

I thought of Elton and his sparkling eyes and slicked-back hair. I imagined his face when he found out. It wasn't up to me to break the news. It wasn't my news to break. It was up to Mary. 

‘I don't know,' I said.

She stared into her tea as if it could solve all her problems. She looked very old, all of a sudden, and broken.

I walked back home in a state of shock. Me and Mary had always told each other everything, I just couldn't believe that she had kept something like this from me. Once again, I felt the familiar pangs of guilt. I'd been so wrapped up in Ralph I hadn't even noticed Mary was expecting a baby. She must have been worried sick, but she'd carried that burden all by herself. Poor Mary. She must have felt so frightened, and so lonely. And it was probably going to get worse before it got better.

I walked round a dog that was sniffing in the hedgerow. Maybe it would all turn out all right in the end, when the dust had settled. Mary wasn't the first girl to get caught like this and she wouldn't be the last. Maybe when Mary and Elton were married he'd grow up a bit and be a proper husband and father. He'd probably have to give up his dream of becoming a rock star. He wouldn't like that but he'd get used to it. It might be the making of him. I knew Mary would never have wanted it to happen this way, but it was what she had always wanted: to be married to Elton.

I reached our house and pushed open the back door. ‘Tea's nearly ready,' said Mum in her normal, cheerful voice. She was stirring a pan of mince and onions on the hob and a big pan of boiled potatoes was bubbling nearby. Her sleeves were rolled up and her face was ruddy, shining with sweat. She'd made some scones earlier and they were cooling on a wire rack. They smelled delicious, but I couldn't have eaten a thing.

I would have liked to rush towards Mum and have her scoop me up and hug me like she used to when I was a child. I didn't even know how to begin to tell her about Mary. It was too much. I had to get used to the idea of her being pregnant in my own mind first before I could start talking about it with Mum.

‘Did you sort it out?' she said.

‘It was nothing I'd done,' I said.

‘Well there you go then,' said Mum, smiling, then she looked at me more closely. ‘Is it something you can talk about?' she said gently.

‘Not yet, Mum.'

‘I'm here if you need to.'

‘I know.'

I went up to my bedroom. I sat on my bed and gave way to the tears that were threatening to choke me. At least with Rita gone I could cry in private. How could Mary be having a baby? She might have been eighteen but she still looked about twelve. How was she going to look after it? And what would everyone say? What would Elton say when he found out he had to let go of his dream and marry Mary? I couldn't imagine Elton doing anything he didn't want to do, whatever anyone said.

There was only one person I wanted to see, one person I wanted to tell. It was the person who would know best how Elton was likely to react. It was the person who would be there to support him, and me. It was Ralph.

My heart wasn't in dressing up to go out that evening. My face was pale, my eyes swollen from crying. I met Ralph in the usual place and he hugged me and asked if I was all right. I kept my face hidden by my hair and we started walking down to the cafe.

I was pleased to see him, to be with him, but I didn't know where to start to tell him everything that had happened in the previous two hours. I was shivering, really cold, and he put his arm around me and held me tight.

‘What's wrong?' he asked. ‘Something's wrong! Tell me what it is.'

‘I don't know how,' I said.

He stopped, and made me look up at him.

‘Whatever it is, it can't be that bad.'

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